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Wednesday, January 28, 2015

A letter from Susi Tarur to Paki Tarar





Dear Tarar,

While I am writing this letter my heart is bleeding. From nariyal ka pani to lupus to tweets of a morning bird, everything scares me. There is TV-phobia because of mike-holding devils running after me and there is twitter phobia as well. As you know I used to find happiness interacting with the cattle class every single minute. Call it a fatal fall of a born-tweeter, today, I am a tweet-free man.  (They say discretion is better than valour)

Jab we met, the first thing you told me was that I have a huge heart. Though my heart is big enough to accommodate as many as beautiful people, Miss Pashkaar’s entry was like a googly. And I was clean bowled. Like a 20-20 match, everything ended in a fast spell. I was the media’s darling when I landed in Delhi to try a khadi kurta for the first time in my life. All said it looked nice on my handsome body. There was some itching though, and those who have been wearing it for decades without even washing, told me, “You will make it big in politics if you turn a blind eye towards all kinds of itching, mudslinging and horse-riding.”  Huh! Whenever the political itching was unbearable, I flew to Dubai. 

You remember the sunny morning when we found an ant drowning in my coffee cup. How much time I stole from you to save the poor ant’s life! “Susi darling, you can’t even kill an ant,” you pecked me on my cheek. And now these media moguls bark at me: “Murderer”.  If wife dies, they say catch the husband. When will they start believing poor husbands of dead wives?  Country fellows…When will they start believe the existence of coconut theories? You know, I get nightmares of people offering me coconut water even in bars. My constituency is full of coconuts and I got a chance to visit there during the election. Country Mallus, they wanted development, drinking water, blablabla…I gifted them a cricket team. Still they call me ‘imported Delhi Nair’. Media say I am an agent of ugly looking Dawood Ibrahim. Only you know I hate men wearing cooling glasses and holding guns.  

I should blame the fatso businessman for dragging me into this IPL muck. I did play not a single stroke, but everybody starting throwing yorkers at me. A marriage of convenience, they say. But Pashkaar lady was such a love! We visited this temple, that temple, this Guruji, that Guruji and many desi English-speaking business morons…  And honestly, I couldn’t breathe a moment ever after. What a haunting end to a love saga! . A poisoned FIR, unending question hours and media trial…

The bugging man of all, Subbu Swamy knows everything. Given a chance, I will deport him to Siberia; damn sure the mommyji and her papuji (no pun intended! Sigh…) will pat me on the back. Ouch...My back hurts. 
Now, this is a secret. To wade through all this bad phase, I went to a saffron swamiji. After taking the vibhuthi and chanting NaMo mantra, you don’t believe what happened! A broom appeared from nowhere, and I was told to keep cleaning. My party spies---they know nothing---allege that this was Moditva. I swear I do not know what it is.

Muck still stops here. I am fed up. When I went to UN, they said I was meant for big. When I came to politics, they said I am meant for something else. Each wife told me I have only the lover boy material. Since this world is not grown enough to encompass a person of my stature, I am contemplating shifting to Mars. Sorry Tarar, Mom entertains no Pak collaboration. My mission is to find some inter-stellar love there. 

Goodbye.

With Love
Susi Tarur

(Characters may appear real, but it’s not my fault. An invisible hand helped me decode these secrets)
(Photo for representation purpose only)




Thursday, January 15, 2015

‘I peeled many onions to see God, but I found Him in my tears’



He was dark and masculine. Having his favourite God Murugan’s tattoo imprinted on his chest, he had certain godly charm, but uncertainty writ large on his wide face. He wanted a job. He left his home in a non-descript village at Kadayanallur in Tenkasi and wanted to return making some moolah in God’s Own Country where the desi youths had some kind of allergy for menial jobs.  
Life took a dramatic tu
rn soon after he started working at Muslim landlord Pichemuthaliyar’s hotel. His daughter fell in love with him and soon he was thrown out of job. He was made to flee from village to village with his Muslim wife.  Twenty-three years passed by; Ramalingam and his three-member family are now following Christianity. More than a religious decision, it was a choice of getting the much-needed protection and a job.
As Joseph alias Ramalingam bows down to pray Jesus, with Murugan’s tattoo still on his body, I was curious to know what’s his take on Ghar Vapasi (Home Coming). “I peeled many onions to see God, but I found Him in my tears.”   
The lesson: It’s not varied religions but his struggles that helped him find God.  For him, life was not just about faith but surviving each day.
Who’s coming home?
 The term Ghar Vapasi should have evoked poignant memories of good old days or nostalgia in everyone’s mind  instead of hatred and divisiveness. Is conversion and reconversion an individual’s choice or their political and social aspects making it more a public issue? Is there any genuine reason for predatory (missionary) religions supporting conversion and opposing one’s reclamation of old religious beliefs? Is a debate on conversion and reversion is uncalled for or can we find a win-win situation for all by introducing a law? 
This vexed topic is a double-edged sword for common man.  One cannot deny the fact that Semitic religions thrived on conversions. Muslim rulers promoted their faith and converted lakhs of people while the British did the same offering goodies and some sort of identity to the underprivileged in a caste-hierarchical society.
 We have come a long way; but aren’t we still peeling the onions? Though science and modern thinking bloomed, religious supremacy failed to fade. Can the state have a say on individuals’ choice of changing or sticking to their religious faith? Who can stop somebody moving from one place to another in a global village? The reasons could be personal, financial or religious.

NB: There is reaction for any action; both conversion and reconversion can stay, provided there is consensus.  Let there be a law to allow people to practice many faiths at a time and find their god or allow them to change it if they want. Let others live without any religion and in peace.